Page 86 of Take Care, Taylor

Four hours later, I drove beneath a canopy of pine trees, following a winding road bordered by a glossy green lake.

A large wooden cabin with gleaming gray windows stood at the edge of the clearing, quiet and waiting.

It’d been years since I’d been here, and as much as I wanted to forget it existed, sometimes I caught myself wondering if my parents’ so-called “inspiration” had really just been an escape.

I wonder if my mom and Taylor’s dad came here, too…

Shaking away the thought, I walked up the steps and unlocked the door.

The scent of vanilla and old books hit me the moment I stepped inside.

I wandered from the dining room to the kitchen, running my fingers along the faint layer of dust. A locked door in the back bore a small plaque that readWriter’s Room.

I didn’t have the energy to open it.

Instead, I carried my things inside, unpacked just enough to make it through the weekend, and opened my laptop.

No words came.

I switched tabs and searchedLakefront Nursing Schoolinstead, filling in the first lines of my application while the cursor blinked like a heartbeat on pause.

Every hour, Taylor called my phone.

And by midnight, I did what I should’ve done years ago.

I blocked him.

TRACK 38. COME BACK…BE HERE (2:53)

TAYLOR

If there were a world record for the number of times someone could refresh their text messages, I was sure I’d broken it by now.

After checking—again—to see if Audrey had finally responded, I set down my phone.

“It’s been a pleasure teaching you all these past few months,” I told my mini writing class. “I hope you learned as much from me as I learned from you.”

They nodded and clapped, though most were already eyeing the pizza and gift bags.

When the bell rang, I stood by the desk and shook their hands one by one as they filed out of the room.

Emma lingered near the back, and I braced myself for one last inappropriate comment.

She slowly made her way toward me, unzipped her backpack, and pulled out two bright red gift bags.

“I decided to leave you with a huge token of my appreciation,” she said. “Even though you don’t deserve it on a personal level, youdodeserve it on the professional teacher level.”

Okay, so maybe she’d finally gotten the point.

“Where’s Miss Parker?” she asked. “I made a gift for her too. A much better one than yours.”

“She, uh…” I paused. “She hasn’t been feeling well.”

“You said that yesterday and the day before.” Her brows drew together. “Is she in the hospital?”

“No, she’s…” I held out my hand. “You can leave the gift with me. I’ll make sure she gets it.”

“Can you also promise not to open it?”